


What Comes in the Night...

by escritoireazul



Series: The Protector Series [7]
Category: Lost Boys (1987)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-03-05
Updated: 2001-03-04
Packaged: 2017-10-16 03:08:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/167774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/escritoireazul/pseuds/escritoireazul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Humans have histories too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Dedication: To Keya for all your continued support and love.

_Welcome to my country  
Welcome to my home  
You could stay forever  
You won't leave it alone  
Welcome to the bush  
Take what you may need  
When shove comes to push  
You want me to leave  
I can't let go of the painted desert  
I can't let go of the old way  
I can't let go of the homeland  
It's in the blood I can't let go_  
"In the Blood"-Robbie Robertson

Anna tucked her legs up under her, draping one arm across the metal armrest of the bench she sat on. The Boardwalk continued to bustle behind her, masses of tourists out for the warmest weekend of the season so far, but she ignored them. The only way anyone would draw her attention would be to venture too close to her sanctuary, but the waves of malignance permeating the air around her drove the mortals away. If one or two drifted too near, visions of their death and the horrible pain it would entail filled their minds, for no reason they could explain, and the groups of teenagers skirted around her secluded seat.

Though things were good within the Pack, friendships were growing stronger, bonds that had been ignored were healing, and bonds that had just appeared were becoming understood, she was hit with nostalgia so great she couldn't ignore it.

Instead of worrying the others with her dark attitude, she had left early to hunt, had eaten her fill, and now sat here, watching the waves crashing upon the beach, and letting her memories, thoughts buried since she'd left home at sixteen, build within her and burst free into the night.

 _I was an August baby  
Conceived by the Christmas lights  
I came into the world by the setting sun  
On a humid summer night_  
"Shades of Grey"-Amanda Marshall

Anna's birthday was rapidly approaching, though she'd long ago stopped looking forward to them as she once had. When she was a child, young and naïve, she'd appreciated the beginning of August, counted the weeks, days, and finally hours until she'd turn another year older.

Her parties were spectacular events. They began in the early afternoon, and the large backyard would be filled with whatever children her age the friends of her parents had. The kids, ones she'd seen every year, on every social event of every season, weren't what she would have called friends. They were more—acquaintances, thrown together by their parents' mutual associations, be that business deals or of other variety. Most had been business deals.

The adults came too, dressed in black, slick shoes and shining dresses, skin revealed down to there. The men hid themselves behind a thick veil of cigar smoke and the scent of alcohol. Heavy crystal decanters passed from one glove-encased hand to the next, and the light that managed to strain through the gray air about them glinted off of the decanters and the thick glasses they filled with drink, drawing Anna' attention and interest even when she should have been playing games with the others.

The only game she would willingly join into was Blind Man's Bluff. Even when it was her turn to play at being blind, something the other kids hated, she adored the game. When she was blind, the heavy scarf tied around her head so tight that she wondered if she'd ever be able to see again, she rejoiced in the darkness. At a young age she'd learned to focus on her other senses, and by her last birthday party, it was ridiculously easy to find the others.

She'd stand perfectly still, listening as they danced around her, their voices strung out and high. When she made no move to go in any direction, they fell silent, one by one, until no one dared to speak.

That was when she struck, drawn forward by their breathing. At times she would swear, if only to herself, that she heard their heartbeats resounding in her ears. No one would have believed her if she had shared the thought—at least not for many years and hundreds of miles.

She chose her prey wisely during this time of silence. It would always be someone strong, someone able to run fast, someone who should have been able to avoid her blind steps—and never her sister. Shauna was off limits, by Anna's own silent decree.

Her older sister was the model her mother held out before Anna, the epitome of everything she wanted from her younger child as well. Anna would have nothing to do with Shauna for this reason alone when she was older, but there were so many others to fill in the blanks left by that reasoning.

Their father, a tall Italian who commanded the fear of every man who met him and the desire of their women, adored Anna—at least as much as he could love anyone who wasn't himself. She was strong, stronger even than her sister, and he wanted to tap her. Though she was barely nine at the time, he'd made plans for her. She would secure his legacy, protect his empire—and he began to train her after that very birthday.

Things hadn't always been so tense between the sisters. When Anna first learned to speak, Shauna's name had been the first word from her baby lips. In the beginning she had followed her sister everywhere, wanted to do everything that she'd done.

By the time she turned eight all that had changed.

~~**~**~~

Anna's little legs stumbled as she ran after her older sister. Five years separated the girls, and though Anna was tall for her age, Shauna was tall for hers and could escape the little ball of youth that orbited her at every chance.

Today Anna refused to let Shauna escape. She pushed her way through the vines, shoving between the tall hedges that formed the vast maze in their back yard. If viewed from above, the maze spread out from the edge of the children's play area all the way to the woods at the back of their towering mansion, the green hedges twisting and turning in intricate patterns that taunted all who tried to master it.

Anna wasn't allowed in the maze. No one under ten was allowed inside, and Shauna often escaped into the cool, green depths when she wanted to avoid her sister. Anna was tired of letting the older girl get away; she plunged into the dark mouth without a single hesitation.

An hour later, she was beginning to wish she'd stayed out in the yard. She could hear the other kids, invited to her eighth birthday party, laughing as they played the games—the same old games as every year before. Anna had no desire to join them, but darkness was creeping in rather quickly, faster than she'd imagined it could.

She wasn't scared of the dark, per say, but she was lost in the middle of the maze, hadn't heard a single peep from her sister in some time, and knew her mother would be furious when she saw her again. The bright white dress was stained with mud and grass, and the sharp spines on the bushes had shredded the delicate lace at the hem and neckline.

Anna sank down to the ground and pressed her hands to her face. She didn't want to cry, but hot tears burned at her eyelids until they had found their freedom and could trail down her cheeks. In the yard the adults lit candles and lanterns, bathing the play area in a warm, friendly glow.

From where Anna sat, when she allowed herself to peek through her fingers, she could just see the glow from the light over the top of the hedges, but it held no warmth for her. Instead it turned the spaces at the top of the bushes into glowing eyes and she wanted to scream, wanted to run away from them into the darkness to hide.

She stood, scrambling to her feet so quickly that she almost fell over again. When her white dress shoes found purchase on the ground she dug in, pressing away and bolting down the path, away from the light, and deeper into the maze. She careened around corners, caught her hair and her dress on the bushes and jerked it free with one movement, and kept running, ignoring the pain in her scalp.

Just when her breath came hard, tearing past her lips in frantic gasps, just when her little heart pounded so quickly she expected to see the movement through the front of her dress, just when her legs burned and she knew she'd have to stop running soon, she slammed into an ungiving figure and tumbled to the ground, scraping her knees and the palms of her hands on the hidden rocks.

The man, for it was a man, she could tell that even in the darkness that her young eyes strained to see through, bent over her as she rolled to sit on her butt, staring down at her bloody hands in horror. He placed two hands, pale but firm, under her elbows and helped her stand.

He tilted his head, pleased by her lack of fear. The child looked down at her hands again, and the scent of her blood hit him, fresh and pulsing with power, something he wouldn't have attributed to one so young.

"You've hurt yourself." His voice was smooth and low and swept over Anna like silk. She rolled her head to keep the feeling there, but it was gone and she found herself nodding and offering her hands up to him—as if he could save her.

The man bent over her again, cupping her small hands in his larger ones. He breathed in, deeply, and then let a puff of cool air slide past his lips. It brushed her skin, caressing the bleeding wounds and Anna whimpered, the sound half-pained.

She couldn't quite see what he did; the movement was a blur, faster than any she'd seen before, and his voice seemed to rumble in her ears again, distracting her from her careful watch.

He flicked his tongue over his lips even as he reached for a clean handkerchief. The blood was delicious, thick and sweet and he hadn't been mistaken by that power, it was there in spades. With gentle fingers he wiped away the blood from her hands, then lowered the bloody bit of silk to her knees and cleaned them as well.

A bright light flashed over him and he jerked his head to one side to hide the ridges and fangs. Anna blinked away the tears that formed, for the light burned her eyes. When she could see again, the man was standing, tucking away the handkerchief into an inner pocket, and the blood was gone from her body.

"Mother is going to kill you," Shauna laughed as she stepped into the pathway, a large flashlight gripped in both hands. "You're a mess. And you're annoying one of Father's guests; he'll have your hide for this."

Anna winced, but jerked her chin up when the movement was over. How dare her sister try to make a fool of her in front of her new friend—she was startled to realize that she considered the man a friend, more so than the children in the yard, even though she'd met him only moments before and didn't even know his name.

"Now, now," the man placed one hand on Anna's shoulder. She could feel the coolness of his fingers through the tattered edges of the trim and the touch soothed her, calming the wave of fury she'd felt at her sister for acting so high and mighty. She hadn't done anything spectacular to gain the attention of this new person, had she? No, she had not, Anna had, and Anna's heart swelled at that. For the first time someone was more interested in her, even when she wasn't acting like her sister—was, in fact, acting like herself. "She isn't bothering me. Why don't we all head back though; I'm sure your parents are worried about you, little one."

Anna let him guide her through the opening and into the next passageway; they brushed past Shauna almost as if she wasn't there. He didn't seem to need the light Shauna still held to find his way, and they were soon spilling out into the golden light filling the backyard.

"Anna-Maria!" Her mother's voice reached a shriek and Anna winced again. It was never a good sign when that voice lifted above a muted murmur when the other adults were present; she was in trouble for sure this time, and not even the presence of the man at her side or the other kids could save her. "What did you do? Your dress is ruined!"

"She had a fall," the man moved Anna back just a step, but it was enough that she could almost hide in the heavy black folds of his long duster. "It was my fault, really, Mrs. Valentino. Please don't be angry with her."

Anna's mum was flustered, her perfectly manicured hands fluttering in the air in front of her body as she tried to handle the words and the sudden desire to follow whatever commands this man gave.

"I—Anna-Maria, go with Ma'am Betty. She'll get you cleaned up so you can come back to the party." The woman forced a smile, more for her husband's guest than for her daughter. "After all, it is your birthday party."

Anna scampered away after flashing a bright, thankful smile to the man who had stood up for her. No one ever stopped her mother from doing what she would, whether that be having the yard rebuilt mere days before a social gathering or punishing her children. She was in debt to this stranger; Anna knew that without understanding why she did.

When she came back down, dressed now in a velvet dress of the darkest blue, so deep that in certain light it was more black, the stranger was sitting with her father and some of his closer business acquaintances, along with the three men—Jones, Davis, and Anthony—who stood behind her father's chair during all business meetings. She knew Anthony well; when she was allowed to go into town, he followed her like a very large shadow. She'd know him even better in the future; he'd even tag along on her first date.

Anna wanted to join her father and her new friend, but they sat at the adult table, where she wasn't allowed. Instead she made her way over to the children's snack bar, helping herself to the wide array of desserts covering it.

"Anna-Maria, come here." Anna looked up, her mouth full of chocolate cream pie, when her father called for her, motioning her over with one beefy hand. Anna swallowed hard and started towards him, only to be stopped when Shauna grabbed her arm right above her wrist and pinched.

"You're in trouble," she sing-songed to hide the jealousy brewing in her stomach. Her father had never called her over when he was with friends; in fact, she often thought he forgot he had daughters when he was with the men.

Anna made no sound, but neither did she walk on, as she would have before, taking the punishment from her revered older sister. Instead one hand lashed out, gripping her sister's upper arm, and she pinched, snapping her wrist around as she did so. Shauna couldn't stop the yelp of pain. She clamped her hand to the spot as Anna moved on to her father, and when she looked down at it a second later, a black bruise was already forming.

"Yes, Father?" Anna stopped before him and lowered her body into a small curtsy of greeting, as they had been taught to do in public situations such as these. He rested one heavy hand on her shoulder and shook his head. It was time for her to do away with such a girly action, he decided.

"It seems you've made a new friend, Daughter," he smiled down at her as he motioned towards the man who had found her in the maze. "He has nothing but good to say about you."

"Thank you, Sir, for saving me from being lost," Anna dipped into another curtsy. Before her father could stop her, the man had, pushing her back into an upright position, then sweeping her up and planting her on his knee.

She remained there throughout the business discussion, kicking her legs in the shadows of the table so her father wouldn't notice. The man offered her a drink of his wine, and bits of food as they were brought to the table. She listened, head tilted to one side, even though she didn't understand a lot of the words flying around.

Her father noticed the attentiveness, and rejoiced in it, his body warming. His little Anna-Maria would do him good yet.

Shauna's eyes remained focused on her younger sister. She ignored the kids there her age, the boys she normally would have been teasing with her lightly bared skin and pouting lips. Tonight her eyes were all for Anna, and her body boiled with jealousy. She'd struggled for thirteen years to get her father to notice her—it just wasn't fair.

"Anna-Maria!" Ma'am Betty called for the little girl. "Time for bed, Bambino." Anna looked to her father, her lips pursed out in a pout. He laughed but nodded, not wanting her to stay up too late and upset his wife, who already looked like she would explode when she got him alone.

"Go on, Little One," he patted her head, offering her a rare smile. "It's long after your bedtime already."

"Yes, Father," she sighed but hugged him, then started to slide off of the man's lap. He stopped her and gave her his own hug. The golden scruff on his chin scratched her cheek and made her giggle before she ran off to her nanny.

"She's going to grow into something special, Bentino," he flashed white teeth at the businessman. "I'd like to see her again, when she is older." Bentino nodded, his lips pressed together tightly.

"She'll be trained when she is nine," he told the man, though he spoke more to himself than the others. "And if you wish, you may come back and see her when she is of age, David."

The vampire sat back, a please smirk twitching his lips. It would be a long wait, until she was eighteen, but if he could, he would return to see the adult the girl-child would grow into.

Of course, things change, and by the time the girl was of age, she was gone from her family, and David was caught up in a destiny that would see his final death—and then his second chance. By the time he'd meet the young girl again, he wouldn't remember her. . .not in the form she would then take.

~~**~**~~

"Anna-Maria, come here." Just as he had the year before, Anna's father called her over. She left the game, shedding the scarf from her eyes before she'd had the chance to capture her prey. The tall boy she'd been stalking toward breathed a sigh of relief, for when she captured whom she was following, blood always flowed.

"Yes, Father?" She stopped and bowed to him, a slight inclination of her head. No more curtsies for her, not since she'd turned eight and had been rescued by the spiky-haired stranger. At times she could still feel the brush of a growing beard against her skin, and it never failed to bring a smile to her face.

"Would you like to work with me, Anna-Maria?" Bentino asked, reaching for her hands with one of his own. "I'd like to teach you the family business, now that you are no longer a child. Would you be willing to learn?"

"Me, Father?" Her face lit up, even as questions flashed through her blue eyes. "Not Shauna?" He could feel her excitement, see it in the trembling that swept through her body, shaking even the blond curls that hung halfway down her back.

"Yes, you, not Shaunaline. She is your mother's; I want you. You are strong, Anna-Maria, and I want you to learn what I do." She nodded fiercely, her hair bouncing around her head and he laughed, the sound dark, but not as smooth as the stranger's had been. "Well then, girl, your training will begin tomorrow. Be up early. And Anna-Maria, go play now. Tonight is the last time you will have a party like this."

"Yes, Father." Anna nodded to him again, and then hurried off to grab more sweets, to run and stretch her young legs, and torment the other kids for the last time. She was becoming an adult, even her father said so. A bright grin split her face and she laughed out loud as she hurried toward the others.

She never noticed the anger and hatred burning within Shauna's eyes where the young woman sat with their mother and her friends, mimicking their every perfect movement. If their Father wanted to pay special attention to Anna, so be it. She'd see to it that their Mother liked her best, as she always had.

And if she had her way, she'd get to learn whatever Anna would; she'd prove to the family that she was the better daughter, no matter how strong Anna was. She wouldn't let her baby sister get the better of her. She couldn't. Family pride was at stake here.

Besides. She'd been having dreams lately, dreams that were too real to be simply something her mind made up. Her friends might not believe her, but she was having—visions.

And Anna-Maria, known to her sister alone as Anna, would destroy their family if she had her way. Shauna knew that truth without the slightest doubt. She would do anything it took to stop it.


	2. Chapter 2

_I can stand up through your destruction  
My voice will tremble  
My hands will shake  
Yes I can stand up through your destruction  
I won't break  
I won't break  
I could hear the voices  
I could hear the voices  
I could hear the voices  
Coming through the night  
I can't let go of the painted desert  
I can't let go of the old way  
I can't let go of the homeland  
It's in the blood I can't let go_  
"In the Blood"-Robbie Robertson

Anna stumbled when she stood, her legs cramped from too long tucked beneath her body. Around her the Boardwalk was quieter than she ever remembered it being; a quick glance at a nearby clock explained why. It was almost closing time and the vendors put away their stock, tucked toys into boxes, and shut off the heated plates that kept various food items warm.

The vampire made her way through the dwindling crowds. The quiet tune in Neptune's Kingdom called to her mind, but she ignored it, as well as the tempting smell of humans struggling to finish their games before the final call went out and everything closed down.

Instead of heading to her bike, Anna turned right, skirting along the edge of the Boardwalk. Above her head, on the far side of the high wooden fence, The Big Dipper's tracks cast as shadow over her body. Screams from the lucky mortals chosen for the final ride of the night created a pleasant cacophony, but Anna ignored it too, though she could have plucked one of the humans from the wooden seat, a midnight snack for a hungry vampire. She was too caught up in her introspective to bother.

She followed the winding bike trail over the small railroad bridge that covered the tiny inlet from the bay, salt water creeping its way into the main land like a crooked finger exploring a slightly frightening but full of possibilities new area. The train ran across it rarely know, but it cut a good twenty minutes from the walk between the Boardwalk and her new destination.

Her legs tightened as she picked up the pace to reach the top of the hill and the run-down houses set there. Though she had never pursued the topic, she was fairly certain that college students were the ones to make their homes there; the residents had to be poor UC-Santa Carla students struggling to have enough money for classes, rent, and alcohol. At times she'd caught bits of original songs, strummed out on a wooden guitar or beaten from yellowing piano keys. The music was haunting in its simplicity, and original, but would never make a Top-40 list, or even bring fame to the creator.

Somehow, on nights like these, when she left the others behind and picked her way over the cracked sidewalk, the poignancy such sounds brought her were worth far more than any musician could ever earn. She had, in fact, left money at certain houses, a silent thank you for helping her through the hard times, even if the occupants would never know whom their benefactor was.

At the top of the hill was Anna's latest sanctuary; a tiny cliff that jutted out into the ocean. It wasn't a cliff as the Pack's cliff was, large and foreboding. Instead it was only ten feet up from the water, a slender strip of land standing against time and the elements. She clambered over the guardrail put there to keep clumsy mortals out of danger and made her way to the end. The rocks there had been worn smooth from wind and rain and made a perfect seat, allowing her to rest her back against the metal sign post, whose words proclaimed the treachery of the slick rocks.

Here, where humanity, no matter it was only a good hundred yards away, took a back burner, Anna let herself fall into her thoughts once more, dark memories sweeping up to overwhelm her and steal her mind away.

 _When my grandmother held me for the very first time  
She thanked God I looked like my daddy  
And I never quite knew just what she meant  
But I knew she was a little too happy  
And now I see  
You can't change a stubborn mind  
You can't see the world if your eyes are blind  
What does it matter anyway  
In our darkest hour we're all just shades of grey_  
"Shades of Grey"-Amanda Marshall

Anna was turning eleven. Birthday parties had become a thing of the past since her father had taken her under his wing. Instead of the childhood celebrations, she spent the day in even more vigorous training than a typical weekday would bring. He drove the girl through her work, until even at such a young age her muscles were hard, developed, visible beneath her clothing.

She was becoming a killer. Oh, Bentino didn't call it such; instead he taught her to defend herself, to defend her family, to defend whatever it was that she might hold dear in the years to come. The results were the same. As her proficiency with weapons grew, so did her ability to avoid fights if she wanted to—she didn't.

Not a week went by in which Anna wasn't sent home, bearing a note from her teachers proclaiming her a wild child, undisciplined, a fighter. The notes were often accompanied by phone calls and parent/teacher meetings which left her mother squirming angrily in her seat, her teachers frustrated with the situation, and her father laughing for days at the antics of his favorite child.

The school was wrong. Anna wasn't undisciplined; she was, in fact, far from it. Her victims, as the teachers seemed to forget time after time, were the bullies of the school, large boys and the occasional girl who taunted and tormented the tiny children in first and second grade. Anna stood up for them for two reasons: one, she could remember being that small and having the older kids, namely the sister she adored, run all over her with a clarity that made her blood boil; and two, no one else would. The little ones needed someone to protect them, and Anna was that someone.

No matter that she got her nose bloodied, her favorite clothing torn, her books stolen, and her arm broken on more than one occasion when she first took on her new role as protector of the weak. By the time her eleventh birthday rolled around, she no longer lost her fights. Any of them.

The latest fight had landed her opponents, a brutish girl and boy, twins who shared everything, including their victims, in the hospital. The consequences of that battle were the worst yet; Anna, in a move that no one had seen coming, was expelled from her private, year round school.

"It's all right, Anna-Maria," Bentino told her. Though she'd long since switched to the less conspicuous "Anna," her father refused to make the change. To him names were a sign of family pride, and that was to be held above all other things. "You can learn at home. I'll hire tutors for you, and you'll finish school young so you can focus on your training."

"Yes, Father." Anna was ever the obedient child—when it came to her father. She would jump at his every command, listen attentively to the words of wisdom he offered, and sat in on all his business transactions, at least all that he would let her stay for. The number she was allowed to participate in grew by the week, and with this latest event, he knew it was time to fully initiate her into his life.

"Anna-Maria!" Her mother's voice echoed throughout the house, the shrill cry almost enough to shatter the glass Anna held in her hand. She sighed, her lips pursing as she placed the glass on her father's desk and headed out to deal with her mother, the very set of her body revealing how put upon she was. "Young lady, you are grounded! Grounded I tell you. No parties, no going out, no television, nothing!"

"Pity," Anna murmured, crossing her arms over her chest. "I guess this means I can't attend Sergio's party, and I was so looking forward to it." Her lips twisted into a sneer.

"Wrong, Anna-Maria, you will attend it. What's more, Shaunaline is going to take you out to buy a suitable dress." As Anna's face fell, her mother smiled, the cool expression far too familiar to her youngest daughter. "None of that black, dowdy clothing for my girls. You will make an impression on the suitors that will surely attend the dance; this time it will be a favorable one."

"Mother," Anna whined, dropping the angry stance and fading back into a young girl, the transition smoother than one would have thought possible. "We're living in the twentieth century for Christ's sake. When will you give up on your backward notion that you have to marry me off? I'm only eleven, remember? Not even, until next Friday."

"Anna-Maria, you have to marry well," Gabriella patted the top of her daughter's head gently. "To protect our family heritage, both you and Shaunaline must marry good Italian boys, nice Italian boys, rich Italian boys. You know this."

"I don't even want to get married," Anna argued, flinching away from her mother's touch. "And it's Anna, Mother, not Anna-Maria. How many times do I have to tell you that?"

"No daughter of mine will go by anything so plain," Gabriella flung her hands in the air, her fingers practically vibrating. "How many times do I have to explain that to you? It's bad enough that we named you Anna-Maria—your father and his crazy ideas on heaven and hell." She crossed herself like the good Catholic girl she had once been, and then frowned down at the girl. "No more discussion. Shaunaline will pick out your dress for the party. Do not fight with her. If I hear that you've stepped out of line even once. . ."

"What are you going to do, Mother?" Anna lifted her chin in a defiance that was becoming more and more the standard in her treatment of the woman. "You've already grounded me and taken away the television. What else are you going to do?"

"No more books," Gabriella spat the words out, her anger driving away the last shreds of the gentility she struggled to maintain. "And no more training sessions with your father. Niente, daughter, finito! They'll be done if you don't behave."

"Yes, Mother," Anna lowered her head, both to show deference for her mother's words and to hide the spark of anger flashing in her eyes. As angry as she was, she retained some hint of reason that reminded her she could push things too far.

Shauna rejoiced over her triumph through their mother. She had run to the woman the moment she heard of Anna's latest problem at school, and the quick tattletale session had worked far better than she could have planned.

Now, alone in her new car with Anna, Shauna leaned over and pinched her arm, twisting her wrist in a move she had learned from her sister years ago. Anna clamped her mouth shut to stop the whimper of pain that wanted to escape and focused her eyes on the scenery that soon blurred outside the window, a whirl of colors smeared together by Shauna's fast driving and the tears that Anna held in her eyes.

Over the past few years, Shauna's torment had grown to outstanding heights. Anna hadn't put two and two together yet; she hadn't realized that the problems began right after Father started training her. Instead she struggled to think of what mistake she had made, what horrible action she'd done that had forced her sister to hate her so.

Despite the years, events, and miles looming in the future, she was never to know the truth; Shauna was, pure and simple, jealous of her sister. She was jealous of Anna's beauty, though it wasn't what society would appreciate, for she took her looks from their father, only extracting the blue eyes, blonde hair, and pale skin from their mother. She was jealous of Anna's happiness, for even when in the midst of another punishment from their mother, she managed to find something to be pleased with. She was jealous of Anna's power, which led to the greatest jealousy of all.

Shauna was jealous of the attention their father gave her little sister, and what's more, jealous of the attention her father's friends paid to her. They spent too much time smiling over her actions, from the new move she had picked up in training to her little words of astute advice that shouldn't have come from one so young.

Shauna was jealous.

And when Shauna was jealous, she would twist what powers she had into tipping the scales between them. It was that year that she learned the tricks of make-up, hairstyles, and short skirts that attracted men best.

It was also that year, at sixteen, that she finally convinced her mother to let her learn to fight alongside her sister. Months into the joint training, both parents had to admit that the two girls drove each other to greater levels of achievement, something that had to spell benefits for the family.

It would prove to be trouble—make that Trouble, with a capital T and emphasis on the word. It would, in fact, drive one daughter to run away a short five years later.

 _They got married in a tiny chapel  
1965  
Malcolm X was on the radio  
When he took her as his wife  
And she looked so pretty that September day  
And her older brother cried as he gave her away  
And the minister looked like he didn't know what to say  
And then he spoke  
You can't change a stubborn mind  
You can't see the world if your eyes are blind  
What does it matter anyway  
In our darkest hour we're all just shades of grey_  
"Shades of Grey"-Amanda Marshall

Fifteen was an awkward age for any mortal child; Anna was no different from the rest. Well, no different in the fact that her fifteenth year on the earth was a difficult one. In all other aspects, she was the antithesis of a mortal girl.

She'd graduated from high school—or rather the private tutoring that passed for high school in her life—at barely fourteen. The past year had been spent working full time on her training, though it had moved past the physical two years ago. She now worked at learning the ins and outs of her father's business.

In fact, Anna reflected as she hurried through the halls toward her father's private business rooms, she'd been running more and more of the deals lately. Perhaps her father had finally decided it wouldn't be necessary for her to marry someone who could take over the business; perhaps he'd decided she could be his heir.

Not that he'd let her if she showed up for this oh-so- important meeting late. Anna stopped outside the gilded double doors, nodding hello to Anthony who waited for her to arrive before he locked the doors. She drew in a deep breath and smoothed her frazzled hair with shaking fingers, hating for a moment the blonde curls that constantly got in her way.

"Greetings, Anna-Maria," her father stood when she entered, prompting the other men in the smoke-filled room to follow suit. She inclined her head to them just low enough to constitute a proper greeting, then made her way around the table to her seat at her father's left hand side, where her notes, copied onto a thick pile of paper in her neat handwriting, sat waiting for her.

Just as she settled into her seat, she noticed the newcomer to the table. He wasn't like the other businessmen; he was, in fact, years younger than them, barely twenty. She glanced down at her papers as Bentino began, using his laser pointer to draw their attention to a set of numbers projected on the back wall as the lights dimmed.

Anna lifted her head to watch what her father was doing, intent on making sure no mistake made it past her. She was startled to notice that the new man, instead of focusing on the wall, was regarding her intently, his dark eyes holding her own when their gazes met.

To her utter embarrassment she blushed, the red color spreading along her cheeks nicely, then dropped her eyes for an instant before paying attention to her father's presentation, and then the comments by the men around the table. She didn't notice that the young man's eyes remained focused on her oblivious form for the rest of the meeting.

Bentino, however, did.

~~**~**~~

 _Indian summer Abilene  
You were new in town  
I was nineteen  
And sparks flew  
They called us crazy  
Behind our backs  
"Romantic Fools"  
We just let them laugh  
Because we knew  
It may be a long shot  
We may be lonely down the line  
But love knows no reason  
And I won't let them make up my mind_  
"Dark Horse"-Amanda Marshall

"Raphael, I'd like you to meet my daughter, Anna-Maria." Bentino held Anna's elbow in one large hand as he guided her to the young newcomer in the room. She nodded to him, keeping her eyes down to hide the emotions she worried would flash within the blue depths.

"It is a pleasure," Raphael lifted one of Anna's hands and pressed his lips to her fingers in greeting. From the moment his mouth brushed her hand, breathing was beyond her; later, she would swear that her very heart stopped beating.

"The pleasure is mine." The words came without conscious thought, reactions drilled into her mind and body by countless hours of training from both parents. He lifted his head, but did not release her hand, and Bentino stepped away, ostensibly to discuss business with the others.

In reality the man played matchmaker, and it would seem his plan was working perfectly. Though five years separated them, Anna and Raphael talked for the rest of the meeting, through the drinks and cigars the older men partook of, through the dinner set in the grand dining hall and presided over by both Bentino and Gabriella.

That one business meeting led to another between Raphael and Bentino, in which Anna sat in as a third wheel, taking copious notes, and struggling to keep her young eyes off of him, and then another, and another, and finally a meeting between Raphael and Anna, one which Bentino bowed out at the last second, and another between the two younger generation business partners and then at long last—a private dinner for two.

By the time Anna's sixteenth birthday rolled around, her training was complete, she was in the process of taking over her father's business, and she was head over heels in love with Raphael. She assured him that she gave him her heart and her soul—but still she hadn't given him the one thing he'd asked for—her body.

 _My money's riding on this dark horse, baby  
My heart is sayin' it's the lucky one  
And it's true color's gonna shine through someday  
If we let this  
Let this dark horse run  
Stars are brighter  
In a desert sky  
No need to wonder  
Or justify  
Where this will lead  
I wear your locket  
Our picture's inside  
Inscription says, "The joy's in the ride"  
And I believe_  
"Dark Horse"-Amanda Marshall

"Tonight," Anna smoothed the blue velvet dress down over her hips, admiring how the flare at her thighs made her legs seem longer—not that they needed any help. At almost six feet she was taller than many of the daughters of her parents' friends, and many of the sons for that matter.

It made no difference to her; Raphael was taller still, all long, lanky body and short black hair, tanned skin in which his teeth flashed a brilliant white when he smiled at her, which was so often. Just the thought of his grin sent a wash of warmth through her body, and Anna ran her fingers over her stomach.

She was sixteen, had been for a whole day. Tonight was the first night she'd had off, and she planned to take advantage of that. Raphael had been feeling down lately, hadn't even been able to stay for the entire dinner her parents had thrown for her.

Anna knew he would appreciate the surprise. She'd first made sure than he had planned on spending a quiet evening alone at his townhouse; he thought she was on a special assignment from her father and she hadn't bothered to tell him when it had fallen through.

For months they'd been in love; she was content to let things remain where they were, a gentle limbo between first puppy love and the responsibilities of commitment, but Raphael was not so willing. He wanted more from her, and at last she was willing to give it to him.

Her hair was perfect, a mass of golden curls hanging down her back. Her father wouldn't allow her to cut it, had told her time and time again that not only was it her greatest beauty, but it would throw those who came against her in business off of the trail; it belied an innocence and a gentility that she just didn't possess.

Her make-up was perfect, colors distributed evenly across her pale skin, drawing out the brightness in her eyes and the full, pouting line of her lips. The dress was perfect, clinging to her body, revealing the blossoming curves and the muscles she worked so hard to keep at perfection.

She was ready.

Her stomach twisted with nerves and she grabbed the glass of champagne she'd stolen from the bar downstairs where her father was now entertaining guests. She pressed the goblet to her lips and tilted her head back, flooding her mouth with the bubbly liquid. Warmth followed the final drop and she smiled.

Now she was ready.

She grabbed her leather jacket, though she'd leave it inside her car when she arrived at Raphael's home. He didn't approve of leather on a girl, but she'd long since grown used to the article of clothing, and refused to give it up. Her father had presented it to her on her fourteenth birthday, though it had swam on her then until she grew into it only months ago. It was everything she was in reality, well worn, impenetrable, and made for the night.

~~**~**~~

Anna stumbled as she hurried up the stairs to Raphael's door. No lights filled the downstairs rooms, and she fumbled in her purse for her set of keys, not wanting to let him know she was there until she was ready.

Soft music filtered down from his bedroom and she grinned, crossing her fingers as she prayed he hadn't already fallen asleep. Not that that would stop her, not when she had a set goal and a plan for attaining it, but it would put a damper on her entrance.

She crept up the stairs, the thick carpeting muffling the sound of her dress shoes. Anna trailed her nails along the wall, enjoying the faint scratching sound it created. At the top she hesitated, her hands pressed to the walls on either side of her body. Something had set her off, something tightened her shoulders and kicked her body into fight mode—she just wasn't sure what it was.

After a moment she shrugged off the uncomfortable feelings and hurried down the hallway, the blue velvet twitching about her upper thighs as she moved. The sooner she was in Raphael's arms, the better—it was obvious her nerves were getting to her at long last, though why she was so nervous about taking the next step with the man she loved, she didn't know.

His door creaked a little when she pushed it open, and she made a mental note to oil it later, fix the hinge that was growing rusty when it shouldn't have. Those tiny noises could give them away if business ever blew up in their faces, and that could be the difference between life and death.

She stepped inside, still contemplating the squeaky door. Her mind was so focused that it was a moment before she realized Raphael wasn't alone—was, in fact, moving against a slender body, his hands gripping the bed on either side of the woman's body.

His head jerked around and he hissed, the word "shit" audible even beneath the low cry of the woman beneath him. Anna's hair whipped around her face as she shook her head, unable to speak.

Her gaze met the woman's and her vocal cords snapped back into use. A whimpering scream filled her ears, the sound continuous, and it wasn't until she focused on it that she realized the sound was torn from her throat. Shauna waved to her sister, then blew her a kiss over Raphael's shoulder, her lips twisted into a bright smile.

Anna bolted, almost falling down the stairs in her haste. Her heel snagged on a loose bit of carpeting and she jerked it free, but the momentum carried her to the floor where she landed on her hands and knees. For the briefest of moments she was reminded of that man, so many years ago, who had rescued her from the maze—she had, in fact, been wearing a dress of this same material when he had settled her on his lap. His bright white hair flashed before her eyes and she was up again, the memory lost in her desperation.

 _You found hope, you found faith.  
Found how fast she could take it away.  
Found true love, but lost your heart.  
Now you don't know who you are.  
She made it easy, made it free.  
Made you hurt till you couldn't see.  
Sometimes it stops, sometimes it flows.  
But baby, that is how love goes._  
"Even Angels Fall"-Jessica Riddle

Anna didn't know where she was, didn't know where she was going, and didn't care. She'd ditched her brand-new, black Monte Carlo several blocks back and had been stumbling down the sidewalk ever since. She wrapped the black leather jacket more tightly about her shoulders and bit her lip to hold back the ragged sobs that still wanted to escape.

At the corners of her consciousness she knew she was in a bad section of town, a section she should have avoided, what with who her family was and the fact that she had no weapons on her. Where would she hide them, every bulge would show beneath the formal dress.

A low laugh escaped her tightly closed throat and Anna winced, pressing one hand to her throat as she forced herself to stop moving. She scrubbed at her face haphazardly with one hand, wiping away the remaining traces of her once immaculate make-up, then turned a sharp left, shoving her way inside the first door she came to.

It opened to spill her into a bar thick with black smoke and black leather. Her dress stood out against tattered jeans and yellowed shirts that had once been pristine white and in one piece.

Dark gazes turned towards her, eyes filled with malicious intent. She ignored them, instead making her way to the bar. The bartender eyed the expanse of skin bared beneath the dress and handed her the drink she ordered without bothering to ask for an ID.

Anna downed half the glass before she began to notice any of her surroundings. Her eyes flicked from one side to the other only once; she knew the quick eye movements could be construed as a sign of fear, and in a place like this, fear was the equivalent of blood in the water.

The wall behind the bar was mirrored, and she explored the rest of the room within its grime-covered surface, taking care to notice how to get to the exit, the bathroom, and the nearest window. It was on her final sweep for danger that a flash of bright white caught her eye and she focused on the corner of the mirror.

 _You will fly and you will crawl.  
God knows even angels fall.  
No such thing as you've lost it all.  
God knows even angels fall.  
It's a secret, that no one tells.  
One day it's heaven one day it's hell.  
And it's no fairy tale, take it from me.  
That's the way it's supposed to be.  
You will fly and you will crawl.  
God knows even angels fall.  
No such thing as you've lost it all.  
God knows even angels fall._  
"Even Angels Fall"-Jessica Riddle

It wasn't him, her old friend from that eighth birthday party, but it was close. He was decked out in leather, his face covered with the three-day-old scruff testament either to his inability to shave properly or to grow a beard properly; it was the eyes that were different. His were chocolate-brown, while the other's had been blue, a cerulean-blue that she could only guess the ocean looked like.

Anna downed the last of her drink, dropped the glass back onto the bar counter, and stood, straightening her dress with a shrug of her shoulders. That same shrug pushed the other man out of her mind, and it was only her and this predator at the far table, his gaze locked on her breasts where they pressed against the front of her dress.

And for tonight, that was ok.

"Buy me a drink." He flicked his fingers in the bartender's direction the moment she spoke, and then kicked a chair out for her.

Anna grabbed the back and spun it around so she could straddle it, baring pale flesh even higher up her thighs, to his obvious approval.

"Andrew," he nodded to her once, then tossed a handful of crisp bills towards the bartender. "Drinks for everyone here, as long as they keep away. What's your name?" He moved from one subject to the next with an ease the belied the affected appearance he sought out.

"You can call me Anna," she tossed the drink back in one long gulp, then returned to her perusal of his face. "You throw money around well, Andrew."

"Parents can teach you wonderful things," he drained the last of his drink, then caught her hand in his, teasing his fingers along the inside of her wrist. "Your dress doesn't fit in here."

"Parents can teach you wonderful things," she echoed, but didn't bother to pull her hand away from him. "I didn't plan on being here; the leather fits, that's enough for me."

"Do you plan on staying here?" Andrew lifted her hand to his mouth, letting his lips just brush the tips of her fingers. Anna groaned, dropping her chin to her chest as memories swamped her, memories she would give anything to forget, to lose in anything she could—or anyone.

"Well now," Anna lifted her head and focused her gaze on him, her lips parting just so. "I think that depends on you, doesn't it."

"You often pick up strangers in a bar?" Andrew stood, keeping her hand in his, and led her from the table, much to the disappointment of the other men, who, as the bought drinks had insured, stayed well away, though they had been enjoying the view.

"All the time," she told him, jerking her hand away in one smooth movement. He stopped next to a car that didn't fit the bikes strewn about the front of the building, and she nudged him into it with her hip. Her hands snaked around his throat and she dragged him down against her, speaking as her lips hit his. "Starting tonight."

 _You laugh, you cry, no one knows why,  
But oh, the thrill of it all.  
You're on the ride,  
You might as well, open your eyes.  
You will fly and you will crawl.  
God knows even angels fall.  
No such thing as you've lost it all.  
God knows even angels fall.  
Even angels fall.  
Even angels fall._  
"Even Angels Fall"-Jessica Riddle

He was rough, he was smooth, he was a bundle of contradictions rolled into one perfect body—and Anna became his willing student. She picked up no more strange men at bars and they exchanged no family information, other than to discover they were in the same line of work. He twisted her body in the warm nights, molding her into the perfect match for his hard life, and she went willingly, as a moth to a flame, not caring that he threatened to devour her in one fell swoop.

Anna was, to put the term politely, addicted to his body, to the feelings he evoked within her own, to the sex they had night after night, when she crept from the house and made her way to the motel room he had taken to keeping in his name, just for them.

Two months later she learned his last name. It had been dropped in the casual discussion that took place between rounds of activities, as they lay in bed, sweat-soaked sheets clinging to their bodies. At the time she thought nothing of it, too intent on trailing her mouth from shoulder to shoulder and down to his chest and down to there and his reactions to her roaming hands.

Three days after that, her world crumbled around her once more, in a way that she had, again, not even seen coming, no matter that all the signs were there.

~~**~**~~

 _Something so sacred  
Is something worth this kind of fight  
Cause love knows no patience  
You can't please everyone all the time  
My money's riding on this dark horse, baby  
My heart is sayin' it's the lucky one  
And it's true color's gonna shine through someday  
If we let this  
Let this dark horse run  
So rare  
So sweet  
Together baby  
We can be free_  
"Dark Horse"-Amanda Marshall

"Anna-Maria, I have a job for you." Bentino smiled down at his daughter when she looked up, turning her attention from the heavy book cradled in her lap. She twisted until she could face him without being blinded by the bright sun creeping in through the window at his back and waited for him to continue speaking.

"One just for you, all on your own. I think you're ready to do this first full time assassination without any help from Anthony," Bentino watched her face, his smile widening when her lips jerked up into a grin.

"You mean it? I can do it on my own? All right!" Anna sprang to her feet and wrapped her arms around her father in a tight hug, then jumped away, bouncing around the room in quite the undignified manner. Bentino humored her as the minutes ticked by, and when she was done, he gave her the rest of the information, quickly laying out the when and the where, along with restrictions on the how—and then he gave her the name.

He didn't notice that the elation had faded from her face, as he was paying too much attention to his words of explanation, claiming that the man was the son of his greatest enemy, and that rumor had it out that Andrew was planning an attack on their family, had some idea that he could squeeze his way in and take down the empire from the inside out.

Anna remained where she was, her fingers pressed to her lips, eyes focused on the brightly colored leaves falling from the trees outside the window. Fall was thick upon them, and though it was her favorite season, she saw nothing of its beauty. Not now, when her world was over, when she had been used—again.

She worked that night, packing a small bag full of clothing and weapons, taking only the clothes she'd bought over the years and nothing any of her family had picked out. She was gone before the sun rose in the morning, taking her car as far as she dared in the long twenty hours between leaving home and stopping for the day. A clandestine arrangement, a quick sale, and she was in a new vehicle, this one a small truck, complete with CD player. Her bag fit behind the seat, music blared from her new CDs, purchased with some of the money she had emptied from her bank account—rolls of bills tucked throughout her clothing and her truck.

Anna-Maria Valentino disappeared that day, a little over two months into her sixteenth year on earth—and when she woke that night and crept out of the decrepit hotel, only Anna was left.

She took off away from the sunset, heading back east where she could lose herself in the bustle of New York City. She wouldn't remain there long, would in fact, remain no where over six months for a good five years when her twenty-first birthday would find her entering Santa Carla, California, where'd she'd see the Pacific Ocean for the first time, fall in love, real love, for the first time, die for the first time, and fulfill her destiny as Protector.

 _And when my grandmother held me  
For the very first time  
She thanked God I looked like my daddy  
And I never gave a damn just what she meant  
But I knew she was a little too happy  
And now I see  
You can't change a stubborn mind  
You can't see the world if your eyes are blind  
What does it matter anyway  
In our darkest hour we're all just shades of grey  
In our darkest hour we're all just shades of  
Darkest hour we're all just  
Shades of grey - Hey, Hey, Hey  
It doesn't matter anyway Don't give a damn  
Don't give a damn  
Don't give a damn what they say  
We're all just shades of grey  
We're all just shades of grey  
Shades of grey_  
"Shades of Grey"-Amanda Marshall

Anna took to the air, not bothering to climb back over the railing and walk back to her bike. Flying was far faster, and she almost forgot to stop to grab her vehicle. Once she was settled on it, she let the wind kicked up by her high speeds wipe away the remaining tears.

When she entered the cave, Dwayne rose to greet her, his dark gaze focused on her face, worry in his eyes. She smiled at him, letting him draw her in for a kiss, though her eyes searched for David a moment later, to no avail, for he hadn't returned from the hunt yet. Her memories had brought up the past, things she had forgotten, and she was determined to know the truth behind the fiction and hazy dreams.  



End file.
